I rolled into Santa Teresa early in the afternoon. The sun beamed down its scathing agenda, burning my tender gringo flesh. Cars and motorbikes threw a lingering cloud of dust from the bumpy dirt road …
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I found a cheap room in Palmar Norte and shambled into a soda (cheap Costa Rican eatery) across the street. I had just bicycled about forty miles and could have salted three pounds of pork …
Panama City was exactly as I’d pictured it – all white, dense, oozing history. I took it as a good omen, like forgotten faces from a dream, as we wandered the crumbling edifices of Casco …
It is difficult to relate the absolute hysteria of Carnaval in Barranquilla. Most nations couldn't handle an equal event without soon collapsing into a frenzied state of all-out warfare. But Barranquilla does it, and does …
Medellin, enchanted city, home of the silicon buttcheek, where no one remembers the natural light of stars and the sun has barely been named, where the Paisas wear their souls on their skin and old …
"I hate Dubrovnik," my friend Amila hissed. "We go there every year. To us Bosnians, it's boring. All the tourists. Too expensive. I hate it." Perhaps. But to this American, no place is more epic, …
To relieve the tedium of relaxing on the white or black sand beaches of the Big Island, let me suggest a ski trip. Most people hang their jaws in disbelief when informed there’s not only …
Past the Coachella Valley, where the desert floor pushes the mountains out of sight, my grandfather levitates above a steamy I-10, alternately stiff-arming the grill and checking the coolant level of my eastbound station wagon. …
My favorite city on this planet is Paris. You can do all the things the guidebooks tell you to do. Or you can do what I do, which makes Paris one's own village. To wit: …